Read Online Petals in the Ashes by Mary Hooper - Free Book Online Page B

should sigh, being the older sister and the one in charge, but to tell the truth I loved cats as much as she did and did not mind a bit. Besides, I knew London still had a shortage of animals and that she – and her kittens in time – would be welcome there.
    â€˜You’re not very cross, are you?’ Anne said. ‘One of the farm cats had five kittens and I couldn’t leave them all behind. I almost brought two—’
    â€˜It’ll be you who’ll look after her,’ I warned. ‘You must find scraps for her to eat and clean up any messes.’
    â€˜Oh, I will!’ she said fervently.
    â€˜And you must keep her in that basket and not let her out until we reach the shop.’
    Some of the bigger craft had musicians, or a fiddler or singer, and these provided entertainment for the passengers who, dressed richly and to be seen, lounged on the decks drinking wine and partaking of food. As we passed Chelsea we came across a skiff containingfour rather drunk gallants, and they, seeing us, urged their boatman to follow us upstream. For two miles or so they did so, calling us ‘Charmers’ and ‘Sweet Angels’ and sending extravagant compliments across the water, promising not only undying love, but all manner of jewellery and fine things if only we’d join them. We did not deign to even look their way, of course, but there was much giggling between me and Anne and we were rather sorry when, their boatman seeming as drunk as they were, they lost us amid the crush somewhere before the king’s palace.
    Here, at Whitehall, we had the biggest thrill of all, because the royal barge sailed by us with the king himself on board. His Majesty was seated on an ornately carved chair at the prow, and looked the very image of the man we had seen depicted on news-sheets and inn signs: handsome, strong and lusty. He had olive skin, long black hair which fell curling to his shoulders, and a narrow dark moustache, and was magnificently clothed in satins and lace with a fur-trimmed velvet cape hung about his shoulders. He smiled and waved to those around him, exuding a charm and a presence which drew all eyes. Several spaniels must have been playing about his feet, for we could hear them yapping, and when a barge piled with animal skins passed by, two of them jumped up to a ledge at the stern and hung there, sniffing the air, like tiny figureheads.
    His Majesty’s barge had lavish ornamentation and was most excellently carved and gilded, with all manner of bright pennants fluttering from its awning. Queen Catherine was quietly seated under a tapestry canopy in the shade (for it was said that she wasexpecting a child), and looked a neat body, and refined, and on seeing her our eyes raked the area to the back of the barge, hoping we might glimpse Barbara Castlemaine or another of the Ladies of the Bedchamber, but we did not. On board there was a quartet of musicians and all around us on the water people were shouting, ‘Long live the King!’ and ‘God bless His Majesty!’ We joined in, shouting, ‘A Health to King Charles!’ louder than anyone else, for we were fair excited out of our wits to see him there.
    Indeed we could not have travelled by river on a better occasion, for there was so much to see that, when Anne was not giddily exclaiming at the sights around us, she was struck speechless at them. I, too, was both awestruck and astounded, but sought to appear more knowing, mindful that I was eighteen months older and had lived in London before.
    Passing the great warehouses, tanneries and chandlers along the quayside of the City, our wherry landed at Swan Steps just before London Bridge (at which sight Anne almost collapsed with wonder and astonishment). Here we alighted, which was no easy matter for the landing jetty was slippery-thick with mud and detritus. We had no clogs or pattens to lift us out of the mud, but were wearing leather mules with our